


Wings of Lost Dreams

by archeron_queens



Series: Night Vibrance [1]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 16:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15319065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archeron_queens/pseuds/archeron_queens
Summary: Rhysand's sister, Sofiya, and her story, told from my perspective and what I wish happened both while she was alive and an alternative ending where her mother and her don't die. This summary was confusing, I'm sorry,  I hope you understood it though





	Wings of Lost Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this new project of mine, leave a little like, reblog and tell me what you thought of it!! As usually, if you wish to be tagged in later chapters, message me or comment!

Sofiya sat in her room in the palace atop the mountain, watching dusk fall over her Father’s Court through the magical barriers protecting her from the elements. She wished the barriers disappeared. She wanted to feel the wind and snow and cold that she could only get properly while flying, not the balmy, soft atmosphere in the palace.

“Cauldron, Sofiya, you were supposed to be dressed already,” her brother reprimanded from the threshold.

“Have you heard of the concept of knocking? Also, the concept of equality of opportunities between siblings?”

“Sofiya, we’ve discussed this, I cannot change his mind, neither can mum,” Rhys said sitting down next to her.

“So you have to keep a reputation because you’ll rule, but you can still train at the Camps, yet I can’t? Regardless of not being his Heir? That’s simply sexist, irrational and extremely infuriating.”

“I know, dearest.”

“Mother of us all, Rhysand, we repeat this conversation every week. And it ends the same every time,” Sofiya said at last.

“Then go get dressed, Sacha.” Cauldron-damned Rhysand using her Illyrian nickname, the one only he and their mother used.

“I don’t want to go play the perfect daughter to a man that barely likes me on a good day, Rhysand.”

“He does like you, he’s just shit at demonstrating it,” Rhys retorted.

“I’m not going.”

“Of course you are, come on, for once in your life don’t be contrary and back down,” Rhysand said, his temper getting to him just a little bit. It was obvious for both of them that even though the High Lord didn’t love his son, he could barely stand Sofiya. And there were not many things Rhys hated more than that fact. She opted for taking her book and reading it instead of answering her brother. “This is not how you fight him, Sacha, this is not how you’re going to end up in the camps.”

“I’m more than capable of reaching my own conclusions and elaborating my own opinions, Rhysand. I’m not 3, I’m 13, and while I understand that’s not very old at all, it’s old enough to know he isn’t letting me go train. However, if he can ignore my existence, I can ignore his and his wishes’.”

“This is going to end so badly, I hope you are aware of that fact.”

“He’ll just keep on loathing me, nothing new,” she answered, her nose still buried in her book.

***

“YOU BETTER BE READY WHEN I OPEN THIS DOOR, SOFIYA,” her mother yelled from the other side of the door.

“I’m not, you can save the scolding already,” she answered as the older Illyrian opened the door.

“Rhys has talked to me, I know your reasoning and arguments. Your father’s feelings are his own, I have nothing to do with them, but I can tell you my own. You are putting that damned dress on and you are accompanying me to the Spring Ball, regardless of your currents feelings towards your father, that’s nothing to do with me, Sof,” her mother admonished,

“You could have tried to sway him,” she responded, taking her hair out of the braid she had used for trained in the morning and started getting ready to bathe, knowing she had already lost.

“No one holds sway over your father but himself, darling. The only person that can convince your father of anything is himself,” her mother said gently.

She lowered herself into the bath, her mother sitting down behind her on the ledge, starting to wash her hair gently. “Why can’t I go train at the camps, then? I always thought you had a say so in this situation.”

“What do you mean?” Her mother’s brows were knitted together in confusion.

“Because of what they did to you, I always thought you wouldn’t let me go. Rhysand told me the other day you agree with us, not father. Then why doesn’t he let me go?”

“I- I know you, and I know that you’re smart enough to make your own choices, you have all the information on what it would be, if you decide to go, I wouldn’t stand in your way,” her mother concluded while gently combing through her hair, already dried by the young Fae’s magic. “About your father, I never understood. And know that I’ve asked him, time and time again, why he wouldn’t let you despite having allowed Rhysand. He never answered me.”

“Do you agree with me? In going?”

“I’m not sure yet, I would like him to allow you a week there, to see how well you would fare. But the one point you’re forgetting is that you are not a male, darling, it is always going to be different, and harder, than it was for Rhysand,” her mother said, gently shuffling through her fancier dresses, giving her daughter one. “You have to be ready for that sort of violence. It isn’t just a holiday, this time.”

“I know.” She paused halfway through getting her dress. “But can you convince him?”

“I have never been able to convince him of anything, it is not going to start now,” Sofiya’s face visibly fell. She was incredible at masking her own emotion, despite being so young, but she never felt necessary to keep that pretense around her mother or brother. The kindness had never extended to her father. “Go on, darling, finish up and let’s go. They must be waiting for us upstairs.”

“You should be proud of me, though, did you see how quickly I got dressed?”

“I wouldn’t have believed it if I weren’t here,” her mother said with a gentle laugh. “But I’m always proud of you, darling.” Her daughter beamed right back at her as she opened her room’s door.

***  
“Hello, Lady,” Lord Helion told her while kissing her knuckles. “What brings you to my family’s humble abode?”

“There’s this stupid ball, you see? And there’s your stupid friend, who happens to be my stupid brother, and I happened to end up here, as a consequence of those factors.”

“Oh, Sofy, I remember when you were just a youngling who hadn’t yet come into your brother’s sarcasm. Good times,” Sofiya laughed out loud for the first time since arriving at the Day Court. Helion was very annoying most of the days but the Day Court and the Night Court had close enough relations that Rhys and he were good friends and he had almost adopted Sofiya as his own sister.

“Shut up, you love my sarcasm and my sarcastic brother,” she fired back with a smirk.

“You know who I love? Your brother’s bat friends.”

“I’ve noticed. Which one? The annoying one or the quiet one?”

“Both. Preferably together. Preferably on my bed.”

“You do realize I’m thirteen, right?” Sofiya asked him with a laugh. She’d heard it all before, obviously, you don’t grow up with Illyrian warriors without knowing how children are made from too young an age.

“Please, I’m teaching you how to survive through Court politics, sweet cheeks, you have to be used to everything,” Helion murmured back to her in her ear. She simply laughed in his face.

“Maybe you’d be lucky, though. Have you tried?” 

“Very domineering, strong mountain men? I wouldn’t stand a chance. I know the Illyrians, hun,” Helion said, his brightness dimming a little bit at the face of prejudice.

“You may know Illyrians in general, but you definitely don’t know those two, then. Try your luck, seriously. I don’t promise shit, but I promise they won’t treat like that.”

“You may be the best little wingwoman I’ve ever had, sweet Lady,” he said with a grin.

“Thank you, dear Lord Helion. Oh, why, hello, Morrigan,” she said as her cousin approached her, flowing red gown dancing around her.

“If you hook me up with her, I’ll be just as thankful,” Helion whispered in her ear with all the discretion he could muster.

“Deal. One of the three,” she murmured back.

“Since when do you have secrets with dear Helion, cousin,” Mor said leaning on the wall next to her.

“He’s just annoying me, I was murmuring back so you wouldn’t share my annoyance. I wasn’t aware you knew him so well, though. You don’t usually attend these disgusting gatherings,” Sofiya told her cousin.

“Rhysand doesn’t usually bring the dogs, either,” she replied.

“Indeed, darling cousin, the whole gang is here tonight it seems,” Sofiya said with a soft laugh. “And to think that I didn’t want to come.”

“Why not? Don’t think the Day Court is good enough for you?” Helion asked with a curved brow.

“I was just tired, that’s all, but your company has obviously dispersed that feeling,” she answered, with all the Court grace she had been taught since birth.

“It obviously did. Now, if you allow me, ladies, I need to have a word with young Tamlin over there,” said Helion, leaving the cousins alone.

“Has your father reconsidered?” Morrigan asked after making sure they were truly alone.

“No. I’m starting to think it is a helpless quest, after all,” she said sipping from her iced tea.

“It isn’t, he’ll see reason, sooner or later,” her cousin replied. “What did he tell you?”

“That he was just protecting me. Which is bullshit, I know how they are, I’m more than ready. I mean, even Rhys agrees, that should be a pretty big indicator, right?”


End file.
